


Feel The Cumbia

by leiascully



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Dancing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil can't dance, but Carlos is willing to teach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel The Cumbia

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-"First Date"  
> A/N: Thank you to Shakira and "Hips Don't Lie" for the title. Everything I know about the history of cumbia comes from the wikipedia article - hence the candle reference - though I enjoy the music itself. And we all know Cecil carries candles at all times in case of a holiday emergency anyway.  
> Disclaimer: _Welcome to Night Vale_ and all related characters are the property of Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor, and Commonplace Books. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Cecil can't dance. 

This shouldn't really be a surprise to Carlos, but it is. Empirically, Cecil is not uncoordinated. Carlos has conducted several very thorough tests of Cecil's hand-eye coordination, and Cecil falls within a perfectly acceptable range with respect to reflexes and fine motor control. Therefore, he should be able to dance. But Carlos puts on his favorite cumbia station, and his hips start moving automatically, and Cecil's just don't. 

Carlos has listened to some of these songs since probably before he was born. Sometimes he thinks the rhythm is part of his DNA, which is maybe the least scientific thing about him, but he can't explain it any other way. He breathes this music; he sweats this music; when he's thinking, he taps his toe to a 2/2 rhythm. 

It's Cecil's first time at Carlos' apartment, and Carlos needs a little bit of ambiance, something to temper the force of Cecil's adoration. He's already poured them drinks - music is the next logical step. When the music spills out of the speakers in his apartment, Carlos holds out his hands to Cecil. 

"Oh, I _can't_ dance," Cecil says, and he's right. But Carlos doesn't mind. 

"We'll get you a candle," he says. "Just follow me."

And somehow, like everything else about this relationship they're building, it's oddly charming, and strangely perfect, and eventually Cecil does manage to sort of stumble along. His hips are never loose enough, and Carlos can tell that Cecil doesn't feel the way the joy thrums through Carlos' own body, but there is plenty of time left to repeat the experiment until Carlos has enough data to confirm his hypothesis that Cecil can learn to love some of the things that Carlos loves, now that Carlos loves so many things in Night Vale. Cecil is flushed after five or six songs, so Carlos lets him go. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't better," Cecil says. "Carlos, _beautiful_ Carlos, you deserve better. You deserve **perfection**."

"Perfection is an impossible concept," Carlos says, "but I believe we can approach it." He sits on the sofa next to Cecil and reaches for his drink, and his other hand reaches for Cecil's, and together they tap out the beat on the suede of Carlos' sofa.


End file.
